


Believe it or not, it could have been worse

by lucyisalive



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Gabriel Lorca is evil and he ruins everything, I can't quite believe I wrote this, M/M, So much angst, anyway, it's the angstiest thing I have ever written, seriously guys if you don't like angst don't read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyisalive/pseuds/lucyisalive
Summary: What would have happened if Paul had refused to do 'one last jump'. Well, Gabriel Lorca would have needed to find a way to convince him otherwise...





	Believe it or not, it could have been worse

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah... just in case you didn't read the tags, this fic is very angsty, kinda dark, and does not have a happy ending. Y'all have been forewarned...
> 
> Many thanks to @30MinuteLoop for beta-reading

Hugh looks up in concern as his partner walks through the doors of their quarters. Paul seems tired, but otherwise looks no worse for the ordeal he’s just been through. Hugh’s fingers are itching to reach for his medical tricorder so he can scan him again, but he resists the temptation. He wouldn’t learn anything more than he had from the computers in sickbay, which, after a few hours of careful observation, had declared Paul to be perfectly healthy, aside from the ongoing issues with his white matter.

It was as though the 133 jumps hadn’t even happened. Medically speaking at least. But psychologically…

If someone had told him four hours ago that Paul would be even close to okay _this_ soon after finishing the jumps, he wouldn’t have believed them. He represses a shudder as his mind flashes to the memory of Paul in the chamber, his face contorted with agony. Those images will probably haunt his nightmares for weeks.

Still, he makes an effort to show no outward signs of distress as he smiles at his partner in greeting. “So, what did Lorca want?” he asks, hoping his voice sounds steady.

Paul sits down next to him on the bed and sighs in confusion. “He wants to give me a medal? I think? I don’t know, I can’t figure the guy out. One minute he’s being a domineering asshole, and the next he’s trying to make nice?” Paul snorts. “He probably should have figured out by now that if he wants to be nice to me, a _medal_ isn’t the best way to go about it.”

Hugh frowns. His own opinion is that Paul’s assessment of Lorca has been pretty on-the-money from the start. The captain is a warmonger, and an asshole, and he’s just put Hugh’s love in terrible danger, seemingly without a care.

But he voices none of that, simply saying instead, “You deserve more than a medal for what you did today. For what you’ve… been doing, this whole time.”

Paul looks up, his expression slightly guarded. There’s a certain tension in the room, a feeling that they’re both walking on eggshells a little bit. Between the jumps and Paul’s recovery in sickbay, there hasn’t been time to discuss the fact that Paul has been lying for the past few weeks, and now neither of them are really sure how to address it. Hugh feels like he should be angry, but he’s still too busy feeling relieved that Paul is okay.

“We’re headed for Starbase 46,” Paul says finally.

“Please tell me Lorca’s not making you jump,” Hugh says, anger flaring up beneath the surface.

“No,” Paul says hurriedly, “or at least… he said he ‘wouldn’t ask that of me.’ I did get the impression he was hoping I’d volunteer to do it but… no. I’m not doing that again.” He takes a deep breath then, and speaks softly. “Ever again.”

Hugh meets his eyes and finds his expression to be completely sincere. He takes a deep breath. “Really?” he says, his voice hitching slightly.

“Really,” Paul repeats. He takes Hugh’s hand. “I’m so sorry for the shit I’ve put you through, Hugh. I can’t really say I regret injecting myself with the tardigrade DNA that first time. It was to save your life, and to save the ship, and I got access to the network that I never dreamed was possible. And I don’t regret doing the 133 jumps either, really, if it saved a civilisation and ended the war. But lying to you, and carrying on with the jumps when I knew there were… side effects? That was wrong, and I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t put my health in that kind of danger again. I won’t be doing any more jumps. I’ve already told Lorca.” Paul breaks off for a moment before looking down and whispering in a small voice, “I hope you can forgive me.”

That’s something Hugh’s always loved about Paul. He’s the most stubborn man he’s ever met, and when he’s standing for something, he’ll dig in his heels so no-one can move him an inch. But when he needs to apologise for something, he always will.

Hugh smiles and reaches out to brush Paul’s cheek. “Thank you for saying that, love. And yes, of course I forgive you. Doesn’t mean I’m not still worried about you though.”

Paul reaches up to cover Hugh’s hand with his own. “I know. And I know I’m probably going to need a lot of medical attention when we get to Starbase 46, so we can figure out what’s been happening to me. But, before that, I have an idea about how we can spend an evening.”

“Oh?” Hugh says, curiously.

“Yes,” Paul replies, and there’s that knowing glint in his eyes that Hugh loves so much. “You see, there is a moon near Starbase 46, and I understand they have the _most_ esteemed Kasseelian opera house, where they are currently performing La Bohéme.”

Hugh smiles widely as he realises what his partner is suggesting. Paul grins in response before finishing, “I could be your date?”

Hugh looks at him speculatively. “Are you saying you’ll actually sit through that with me?” he asks teasingly.

Paul merely nods, his eyes open and honest and every bit as beautiful as the day Hugh first saw them. “Once we get back to Starbase 46, I am going to have a _lot_ of free time on my hands.”

Hugh grins and leans forward to kiss him. Paul’s hands come up to rest on either side of his face as their lips meet. As they kiss, lips parting generously as they sink further into it, Hugh feels all the stress and hurt and fear of the past few weeks melting away, leaving only love and joy and the promise of a future that for so long had seemed uncertain. As he loses himself in his lover’s embrace, his hands slowly moving down Paul’s back until they’re rested on his waist, he feels more hopeful than he has felt in months. Somehow, everything is going to be okay…

 

 

At first, Paul thinks the tingling he’s feeling is just another one of his body’s reactions to Hugh’s touches, as the ever-present passion in their kiss slowly works its way up towards genuine arousal. But then the tingling increases, and Hugh’s body under his hands begins to lose its solidity.

Paul blinks in surprise and has just enough time to pull away and see Hugh’s look of confusion. Then the familiar feeling of dematerialisation overtakes him, and he finds himself surrounded by the blue light of the transporter beam.

He has only a few fractions of a second within the beam, during which his overriding thought is _what the fuck?_

And then the world appears around him again. He begins to register things, slowly. Glass. Metal. The soft familiar whir of machinery. A tight, enclosed space.

_The spore drive chamber. I’m in the spore drive chamber._

Beyond the glass, he can see the familiar engineering room, strangely empty. Paul frowns. _That’s odd_. But then he sees Hugh, on the other side of the glass, blinking, clearly also trying to adjust to the sudden transport. Their eyes meet for moment, both of them registering the other’s confusion, and then the silence is broken by a darkly familiar voice.

“So sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I’m afraid I require Lieutenant Stamets’ services just one more time.”

A shiver goes down Paul’s spine. He’s heard Lorca sound threatening before, but nothing like this. Nothing like this dangerous growl, wrapped in hatred and anger.

Paul and Hugh turn to watch him as he steps out of the shadows. And in his hand…

Paul feels his entire world tilt on its axis, and all the breath is suddenly forced out of his lungs in a violent gasp. He fights to get it back in again, trying to think clearly through the panic that has clenched like a vice around his beating heart.

To no avail. He can’t take his eyes off Lorca. Who’s still holding the phaser. Pointing it directly at the heart of the centre of Paul’s universe.

_No no god please no. Not Hugh. Please not Hugh. I’ll do anything, please._

It’s only a supreme effort of will that stops Paul from voicing that thought out loud.

His arm completely steady, Lorca turns to meet Paul’s eyes. "The coordinates are already in the system, Lieutenant Stamets. You know what to do. And I’m sure you can deduce what will happen if you don't."

Somewhere in the back of Paul’s mind, a small part of his brain is frantically making deductions. 1. Lorca is very much a rogue officer. 2. There’s somewhere he needs to go, somewhere he can only get to by jumping. 3. He probably calculated the coordinates from the data from the 133 jumps. 4. If Paul had agreed to do one more jump to safety, Lorca would have hijacked the ship then. 5. Paul’s announcement that he wasn’t going to do any more jumps had forced Lorca to take this action instead. 6. _Oh god this is my fault, all my fault I’m sorry Hugh I’m so sorry..._

But the greater part of Paul’s mind is still overcome by shock and terror. And then overwhelmingly by anger.

“You evil, lying, manipulative, BASTARD,” he spits out as viciously as possible.

Lorca just smiles remorselessly.

“Why are you doing this?” Hugh says. His voice is more level than Paul’s, betraying no fear, only a deep undercurrent of fury.

Lorca’s smile still doesn’t meet his eyes. “You could say I’m taking us _‘where no one has gone before’_ ,” he says mockingly, “at least, no-one from this universe. But I don’t have time for conversation, gentlemen. Connect to the drive, Lieutenant, or your precious doctor starts losing limbs.”

Paul knows that the threat is utterly genuine. He looks away from Lorca to meet Hugh’s eyes again, the sight of them causing his mind to flash back to just minutes ago, when he was kissing his love and holding him, and being held and kissed in return. He nearly staggers from the emotional whiplash, and he can feel the tears pooling in his eyes.

He can read Hugh’s face very clearly. His entire expression is screaming _DO NOT DO THIS._ He can feel the message being radiated towards him as though they are telepathically linked. Typical of his dear doctor. Always putting Paul’s safety, and the safety of his ship, before his own.

Paul doesn’t need to think. He doesn’t need to deliberate or agonise over his choice. He doesn’t give one second of thought to his duty. He wonders briefly if that makes him weak. He decides that he doesn’t much care.

He lies back on the lean chair in the spore chamber, his eyes never leaving Hugh’s face. He can see the fear in his love’s eyes.

In his peripheral vision, he sees Lorca move behind the station console to activate the drive sequence, all while keeping the phaser steadily trained on Hugh.

As the spores begin to fill the chamber, Paul begins to panic again. He doesn’t know what effect this will have on his already damaged white matter. For just a moment, he feels fear for himself. And then the spore drive apparatus pierces his forearms.

In the fleeting moments before his mind disappears into the network, several things happen in quick succession.

He sees Lorca’s finger tighten over the trigger of the phaser. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, full of the joy of vengeance. And Paul understands. He wants him to see.

His eyes flash towards Hugh, just in time to see him mouth the words _‘I love you.’_ And then there is a flash of light, and his love is falling and he’s facing Paul, so he can see the exact moment the light leaves his eyes and _no oh God please no not him. Take me instead, not him, don’t let him die no no NO._

Distantly, he can feel the pain searing through his mind as he drags the ship across the boundaries between universes. But that pain is nothing, nothing at all, compared to the pain that’s tearing a jagged line through his heart, ripping him to pieces, breaking every inch of his being as he watches the love of his life ( _why did I never tell him?_ ), his soulmate ( _why?_ ), his Hugh _,_ hit the floor, his body still, his eyes cold and empty and _he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead._

The last thing Paul remembers feeling is crushing, desperate loneliness. And then the network takes him, and his soul goes blissfully numb.

**Author's Note:**

> I would say I was sorry, but then I would be lying... :)
> 
> Seriously though, this premise came to me one day, and then after some discussion on the Discord this just sort of... happened. I was as surprised as anyone, as I don't particularly enjoy reading angst fics that don't have happy endings. But apparently I enjoy writing them? I dunno, don't ask me how my brain works!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it (as much as a fic like this can be 'enjoyed'!) Please let me know in comments what you thought, even if it's just to yell at me ;)
> 
> You can find me on twitter/tumblr @lucyisalive or my Culmets sideblog @singasongofculmets


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